Must be Ramadan

So the general consensus is "update your freakin blog already," thus I will humbly oblige, noticing that I haven't posted since August. At least we know that I haven't lost my sense of punctuality.

Through the end of August and September, the unthinkable happened: it cooled off. In one weekend in September, it got muggy and humid for three days (ugh) then unleashed the most awesome thunderstorm I've ever seen. The next day, it was a solid 10 degrees cooler at night. I hardly knew what to do with myself. The tap water started to cool, the wind approached refreshing, and I can now wear clothes to bed. As a matter of fact, last night it was a frosty 82 degrees.

The buzzword here in Morocco, though, and for Muslims throughout the world, is "Ramadan." This is the religious occasion in Islam where those who are able fast for 30 days. The duration of the fast every day is from dawn until dusk, marked by the early morning/evening calls to prayer heard resonating from the minarets of mosques everywhere. I decided, in an attempt to demonstarte solidarity with my community and experience a significant part of Muslim culture, to join in the fasting. I don't think I knew entirely what I was getting myself into.

I'm used to fasting occasionally for religious reasons, usually limiting one's self to one simple meal all day, with only water to drink and no snacking. This may last for a few days at a time. Ramadan, however, is a fast from all food and water for the entire day, for thrity straight days. I cannot stress enough the difficulty of refraining from drinking water for 14 hours. This is not to try and make myself a cultural martyr; far from it. Practicing Muslims do this every year in earnest from puberty until they're too old to continue (and some do it anyway). There are also a fair number of other volunteers who are doing the same thing, for similar reasons. But this is certainly a struggle, and especially for those of us who live in the desert, even Moroccans will admit to its difficulty. Thankfully Ramadan falls in a meteorological moderate time of year this and next year, so I will not have to deal with a torturous hot summer without water.

This is not meant to be a period of abject misery, however. There are scriptural exceptions for people who are sick, the elderly and infirm, children, those who must travel, and women who are pregnant or menstrating. The only condition is that if you are able, you must make up the days you missed at some point before the next Ramadan. Far from being a punishment, this is generally seen as a time for increased reflection, both with regards to spirituality and temporal affairs. People often use this as a chance to deepen their knowledge of the Qu'ran (the Holy Book of Islam), to pay more attention to the poor and needy in their community, and to be reminded of the need for solidarity with those less fortunate. As one of my Moroccan friends described it, "the rich man becomes closer to the poor man." This ritual alms giving is called "Zakat," and is one of the principal responsibilites of Muslims.

Ramadan is also a time where people generally strive to improve their conduct. As another one of my friends described it, "we fast from more than just food and water." Also ostensibly off-limits are activities such as looking at people lustfully, speaking ill of others or gossiping, and smoking (drinking is always forbidden to Muslims but the sale of alcohol is also forbidden during this holy month, much to the bemusment of many tourists).

Though the hours of daylight are a challenge, and it is not uncommon to catch someone at the end of a long, dry day a little short on patience, the atmosphere is transformed in the immediate minutes following the descent of the sun. The mood goes from beleagured to jovial in a matter of seconds, following a much-anticipated glass (or two or five) of water and the best damned breaking of a fast you'll find anywhere. This is easily one of my favorite parts of the Moroccan experience, where you find people at the pinnacle of hospitality and good humor. The food is marvelous even by Moroccan standards. When a family is entertaining guests, the breakfast table is filled to the edges with cakes, sweets, pastries, sweet drinks and the ubiquitous soup ("askif" in Berber). After the meal, people (mostly men) spill out into the streets to enjoy the cool Zagoran night and the recently-opened cafes (in the towns/cities where they exist). The actual dinner meal comes at 10:30 or 11:00, after which people may simply go to sleep or stay up until the early morning call to prayer at 4:00. This is the last chance to eat and hydrate before the new day of fasting begins. I do this religiously (pun kind of intended) every morning and drink like a camel to try and fully replenish my body's stores. I call this "Power Up" time (for my fellow PCV's, not quite a midnight hfla Carlos Moya/Eau de l'Amour power up, but certainly no less important, I come away feeling just as invigorated, though a little less dizzy).

In all, Ramadan is indeed much more than just not eating or drinking. It is a renewal of sorts, a chance to acknowledge one's blessings, strengthen commitment to the poor, spend hallowed time with family and friends, and experience the joy of daily celebration. This is something I simply could not properly appreciate without waiting just as eagerly for that release every night. When people ask me "day-tuzumt?" (are you fasting?) I am excited to say yes, and they are almost always pleasantly surprised. It sometimes earns me high marks, other times it earns a suspicious glance, and still other times I am lectured about the need to convert. But far and away the reaction seems to be one of approval. It would be absolute misery to sit in my house alone and fast, but Ramadan is certainly not meant for that. It is best experienced in a community as a truly social event. I suppose it's possible to withdraw and devote the entire month to reflection, but for me, it seems that this personal sacrifice is not meant to prompt our withdrawal from the world, but rather to inspire an engagement in it.

Taking all of this with a grain of dehydrated salt, especially coming from the idealistic first-timer, keep in mind that religious questions are best answered by those who know what they're talking about.

So what else has this parched foreign kid been doing in the desert all this time? Well, I've had a chance to travel and see other volunteers' sites, and this has proven to be time well-spent. It's all well and good to go to the cities, and we of course enjoy those, but the unique opportunity provided by having a network of local language speakers throughout rural Morocco is one that I would be foolish to pass up. It's a chance to see my friends in their environments, meet new Moroccans, and really do some grasstoots exploring. This is the type of tourism I've always wanted to do: without being a tourist. Traveling will always be a source of joy for me, but to do it on the terms of those who live here, to speak their language, to be informed of their culture, and to do it in the context of genuine relationship building is the traveller's ideal.

I've also made some progress in work-related matters. I will be working with the Nurse to try and bring running water to our health clinic (the health benefits of this cannot be understated) and implement a medical waste incinerator program to sterilize and properly dispose of biohazardous material. This a ways away from completion yet, but the community support seems to be there and with any luck funding will be attainable.

A special thanks as always goes out to those who have sent me letters, emails, thoughts, prayers and other delightful bits of home to enjoy, especially Meaghan, Sarah D, Miriam, Jeff Labs (let me tell you something about The Dude...), Chuck, Ann and Amie. Thanks to Trevor for the letter, you're going to meaningful work whatever you decide to do, glad you're answering the call (and no, I don't have the new Tool cd yet :-) Thanks to Erin for the post card and emails, it was nice to read that the evil sprits are axeing Joe Torre and making A-Rod into 8th-Rod (in the batting order that is). Joe God Bless and happy travels, Tamara a bittersweet goodbye but I completely support your decision and look forward to seeing you again, and yes, Heidegger is so hot right now. Thanks to the heads-up from Josh, glad to see Maine so well represented, and good luck with your new school year (when you wanna come to Morocco, just let me know!). Melody, metaphysics can be fun, really! Best of luck this sesmester, there's nothing written by man that you can't master. Sorry if I left anyone out, but know that I enjoy everything I get here, and it is always appreciated. Of course continued thanks goes to my family for their love and support, without which I couldn't exist a single day here, and the St. Denis community who continues to keep me afloat with much needed prayers and well-wishes.

Until the next time (anyone taking bets as to when that'll be?) be well and God Bless.

Aaron